Crossing Lines
by Nue Haramaki
Summary: Kritiker is merging with an international assassins' union, and a girl is sent to "evaluate" Weiss. How will Weiss handle having a girl in the group?(chapter 3 up)
1. First Word

Author's notes: This is my first fanfic, and it's a Weiß/Pertenum crossover. Pertenum is mine, Weiss, Kritiker & etc. belong to Koyasu Takehito & Co. Please don't sue, and if you're kind enough to rate, please be kind enough to be honest; harsh comments are badly needed. Pertenum is posted in fictionpress.com, in case you'd like to read the backstory of this fic.  
  
Warning/s: language, first person perspective  
  
Crossing Lines: First Word  
  
June 28, Chabola Road, San Fransisco.  
  
It was a bright Saturday afternoon for me. Dismiss the fact that it looked like it was going to rain; it looked wonderful, with the grayish tint of the sky and the faint light that filtered through the clouds. I loved days like this. It quite reminded me of a time when I felt the same for summer days, where the sun shone so bright I risked my eyes to blindness and the lack of clouds on a perfectly blue sky looked to me like the best kind of day I could ever have...  
  
But I was wrong about that.  
  
The sun never shone for someone cursed like me.  
  
Nonetheless...  
  
"Cielo!"  
  
What in the world... I thought for a moment. Who would ever think of looking for me, especially on a day like this? Surely they had someone to cuddle up with to lessen the cold, like of cold winter nights with them that I we spent near the church –  
  
No.  
  
"Cielo, there you are!!!"  
  
A nasal voice that sang of days spent in dark solitary. Exactly when I started to hear the music in every sound I have no idea, but I know to whom this voice belongs, even without its theatrical symbolism.  
  
"Stop looking at me like that."  
  
Kale Enschell. My keeper.  
  
I've never thought he'd be back soon. I suppose I expected him to stay in London for a bit longer than he was meant to; after all, it was an important meeting. One that actually concerned my value to my society. Not what I can do for it, anyway.  
  
Though I would rather have it that way, than be evaluated as such...  
  
"You're early." I should have been uncivil with him now, as I always have been, but his absence, surprisingly, left me feeling something suspiciously too similar to loneliness. Something that told me I, heaven forbid, missed him, wanted him to return and make up for his absence. And that's unacceptable. I pride myself for my control over such trivial emotions, things that will not help me accomplish my tasks and render weak in my capabilities.  
  
No. I did not miss him.  
  
"I am," he said, looking at his watch, "...actually late by two days, if you don't mind me correcting you." Smirk. I hate that part. "Eh, you still do. Did anything change during my leave??" He must have noticed. How quaint.  
  
"Nothing changed," I replied, pleased by the absence of his voice in the air. you have changed...  
  
Silence. No, I will not say anything, prompt or otherwise. It is none of my business to inquire about his stand, of how he defended my position, no matter how much I owe him for saving my life too many a time. I've pushed him away too many times.  
  
"Indecision." What? How the hell did you –  
  
"Surprised, huh?" How dare you tell me that. You flip your lighter on, then flip it off again. I hate that.  
  
"The board," A cigarette gets lit, "said that they were... willing to take you back.." Smoke is exhaled. Damn it, you don't have to blow it to my face.  
  
Catch. There always is one.  
  
"But," I prompted, "there always is a 'but' to their decisions. So what's the catch?"  
  
"There's a group in Tokyo Japan. They call themselves... Weiss." Flick of a lighter. Another cigarette, then a puff of smoke.  
  
"White ones, huh?" How unoriginal.  
  
"Their base of operations is at a flower shop called 'Kitten in the House'. Four members, the youngest around 18 years old, the eldest is around 23 or 24." Pause for that god damned effect. I'm going to kill you someday soon, Kale.  
  
Puff of smoke. Do you realize how much that reminds me of him?  
  
"They've come across Estet agents, and you'll be happy to know that it's that fucking German who tried to get off on you. Plus that Crawford guy, precog, and two others that wouldn't be much trouble for you." So what exactly am I supposed to do?  
  
A look at my face. God, is it any less obvious? I don't have time.  
  
Sigh. So what's the matter now?  
  
"I know it's hard for you, with all the deaths happening around us, and his – "  
  
"Shut up." Don't say it. If anything, don't say it.  
  
"Cielo, listen..."  
  
"No." Stop it, before the pain gets real. Before I start feeling it again. No, not ever, you're not even –  
  
"Mmmphfhh... Let go!"  
  
[LET GO OF ME!!!]  
  
Mental screams. If anything, I'd thank you for that.  
  
"You had it coming, Kale. I hate when I'm touched."  
  
"What, reminds you of your old boyfriend, doesn't it?"  
  
Don't push.  
  
Like I said, I don't have the luxury of time. Any moment, any day, any fucking second and everything I've worked for gets buried a thousand miles below us.  
  
"It's not always just you, Cielo. This Weiss, they've been fighting men, fighting themselves, their differences, all that shit about righteousness just to protect fuckin' Tokyo." Drag, puff, remove from lips, flick. "Get the point, Kessy. They fight your fight. All justified murder and that shit."  
  
You forget.  
  
"Kale, for once, let me tell you how things work for me. These... "men", as you say, did not have to kill children. These men have probably never killed a pregnant woman, or a young boy who mistook one of them as an older brother –"  
  
"Kessy –"  
  
"Don't call me that. And I'm not done talking yet. Kale, I kill people because I get killed if I don't. Mafia people are after my head, yakuza guys want me six feet under, and in case you forgot, my sister whom I tried to murder not too long ago is out and about after running away from wherever you locked her up. Do you know just how much she wants to kill me?"  
  
Silence. No fancy action, no crappy comment. God, you must be really happy about this, aren't you?  
  
"She wants to kill you." Fine, statement.  
  
"And she'll kill everybody else to do so."  
  
Actually, my dearest little sis would do more than that, but you don't care anyway, do you?  
  
"Your flight's scheduled in four days." Is that the second or the third cigarette? "No, I can't go yet. Though you'd need a tour guide, it's been a decade since we were last there."  
  
"You mean the murder-the-yakuza-heads mission, or the two week vacation?"  
  
"Nah." Where the hell did you get that freakin' Zippo? "Get me some wind chimes."  
  
...  
  
...  
  
"So, what exactly am I supposed to do?"  
  
Yep. I hate you.  
  
TBC  
  
I hope it's not too confusing... it is my first fanfic, sorry. 


	2. Bleary Eyed

Author's notes: This is my first fanfic, and it's a Weiß/Pertenum crossover. Pertenum is mine, Weiss, Kritiker & etc. belong to Koyasu Takehito & Co. Please don't sue, and if you're kind enough to rate, please be kind enough to be honest; harsh comments are badly needed. Pertenum is posted in fictionpress.com, in case you'd like to read the backstory of this fic.  
  
Warning/s: language  
  
Note: text= thoughts  
/text/ = flashback  
  
Crossing lines: Bleary-eyed  
  
July 3, 12:07 AM, Tokyo  
  
Ditdit, ditdit, ditdit...  
  
["You've got mail! You've got mail!"]  
  
Ditdit, ditdit, ditdit...  
  
... ... ... ... ...  
  
The world is spinning around her.  
  
/Voices... who's calling me?/  
  
The world knows her as Kessy Abrera, her legal name.  
  
/Why do I hear you?/  
  
In the Scarlet Society, she is known as Baby Red.  
  
/Fuck... get out of my head already./  
  
To her family, she is Cielo Zarela.  
  
But ask her who she really is, and you'd just get a blank stare.  
  
/Ah, fuck./  
  
Cielo got out of bed; her head was spinning and she felt like throwing up. There was the matter of jetlag, and the "mission" she was supposed to accomplish. So she headed for the bathroom.  
  
/But really, I thought I heard wrong when Kale said they worked in a flowershop./  
  
She shook her head, trying to get a bit of the wooziness out. /But it is true, the reports confirmed that./  
  
The moment her feet hit the tiled floor section of the bathroom, Cielo lurched forward and vomited, holding on the lavatory for support.  
  
... ... ... ... ...  
  
Ken shivered. It was unusual for a summer night to be chilly. Heck, it was downright wrong to be the least bit cold. At least Omi had his window; Ken has yet to fix his window, namely the large gaping hole where the window pane was supposed to be.  
  
"AAAAAARGHHH!" Ken decided he had enough of the wind; he grabbed the top sheet of his bed and draped it over the hole. /Laugh at it, go ahead./  
  
/How the hell am I gonna sleep with the wind blowing down on me?/  
  
Ken flopped back down on his bed and looked at the alarm clock.  
  
[12:30 AM]  
  
/Jeez, now I really need to sleep./  
  
Ken was scheduled for the morning shift since Omi was having a fever and needed rest, so that meant he'd be spending the morning with a hopefully non-pissy Aya Fujimiya for at least six hours before lunchbreak. It's not the morning sickness thing he hates, actually; it's just too damn quiet when he was working with Aya, and Ken wasn't one for silence.  
  
/Fuck Aya and his nonexistent voicebox, I don't want to work with a wall!/  
  
Well, that, and the fact that he hasn't slept well the past few nights. When Birman arrived almost a week ago, he knew something was up. Missions were Manx's; announcements were Birman's. He wasn't quite surprised when she said Kritiker was merging with another association; it was the overall nature of the association that creeped him out.  
  
/International group, huh?/  
  
Ken remembered the opening sentence to Birman's briefing; "The Scarlet Society is an organization of assassins the kind of which can only be compared to what Estet has."  
  
"Children all over the world are gathered by this organization and trained, at the least, at the age of 6 or younger. All of their operatives are, in certain aspects, unique... The Society will be sending in one of their top operatives to evaluate and manage Weiss before the merge is finalized."  
  
/First, new management, then new leadership./  
  
Ken couldn't think of anybody else handling Weiss other than Aya or Omi. Of course, some little part of him had realized that if Kritiker was really "merging", there'd be some changes with how things went in Weiss. Omi had explained how it might turn out if things went well; new fields, better training, better gadgets, they could even ditch the flower shop entirely. But the flower shop - and all the fangirls, no matter how irritating – had somehow made their lives a bit closer to normal, their guilt almost bearable.  
  
/Why take that away?/  
  
Ken thought in circles for a while before finally falling asleep.  
  
... ... ... ... ...  
  
[01:04 AM]  
  
This hotel room stinks. I've flushed out the mess I made in the bathroom, so that cleans it up until the cleaning lady gets here. But this hotel room stinks.  
  
The airconditioning is good, not too chilly, not the least warm either. The food, well, I chucked the raw fish out when it came; I'm not eating anything uncooked, thank you. The sheets and the carpet are really nice; cute patterns too.  
  
So what sucks about this place?  
  
The fucking picture hanging on the wall across the bed. A happy family, all having a grand time eating dinner at some house, all smiles and nice happy love around while the entire world spins crazily past. How realistic; pull my leg, why don't you.  
  
Mom. Dad. I can't believe there was a time when these words weren't foreign to me. I thought those times spent at home were all it was; time spent with the ones I love. Yeah, right. Love. The most fucked up word in the vocabulary of mankind.  
  
They must have loved me so much when they buried me alive.  
  
Tclack!  
  
Eh? What fell? Oh...  
  
My cellphone. Eh?  
  
["You've got mail! You've got mail!"]  
  
[ Meet Weiss agent at 1700, hotel lobby. Your sister's already there in Tokyo. – K]  
  
This hotel room sucks.  
  
... ... ... ... ...  
  
[09:00 AM]  
  
"Uhnnnnn..."  
  
The slight, sickly figure in apartment 202 shifted and squirmed in its bed. Something was shaking its shoulder, willing it to wake up.  
  
"Hmmmmmmm... eh, wha- TCHOO!"  
  
"And good morning to you, too, Omi," Yohji greeted, albeit somewhat sardonically. "Thanks for the LOVELY sticky goo you've sneezed on my shirt."  
  
Omi merely smiled back and sniffed. "Eh, gomen ne, Yohji-kun. I –sniff- guess I –sniff- owe you." Omi was about to say something but was stifled by another slightly less projectile-ejecting sneeze. "Waah, Yohji-kun! I didn' mean tha'!"  
  
/Oh, great. Phlegm all over my face. And it's not even 10 AM./  
  
Yohji handed Omi a can of chilled orange juice. "Not much help, I know," Yohji snorted, "but at least that can clear up your nose till your brunch is delivered."  
  
"Eh, than's, Yohji-kun...sniff..."  
  
Yohji looked at Omi for a moment; just a few years ago he was a bouncy fourteen year old kid. He winced inwardly; /Omi... what had happened to you?/ Yohji then stood up and mussed Omi's bangs, until the younger Weiss swatted at his hand.  
  
"I'm turning 19, Yohji-kun! Stop treating me like a preteen!"  
  
"Yeah, well, you still look like one!" Yohji laughed on his way out of Omi's room. "You better get well fast, Omittchi; your fanbase won't wait long enough!" Yohji closed the door just as Omi threw a pillow aimed at his head.  
  
/Baka!!! Why does it matter?/  
  
Omi flopped back onto his bed; he wasn't used to waking up this late in the morning, and his head was heavy from the blood rush. Omi put his hands on his face, massaging his cheeks with his palms. /Ow, even my jaw feels weird. I gotta get up./  
  
He sat back again and swung his feet to the side the bed. He tried to stand up, but the moment he was in an upright position his vision started to sway and he had to sit down. He rested his head on his hands.  
  
/This fever is worse than I thought. I can't even stand!!!/  
  
Well, Omi isn't one for losing. Even to a fever. 


	3. Okay, Who are you? Part One

Author's notes: This is my first fanfic, and it's a Weiß/Pertenum crossover. Pertenum is mine, Weiss, Kritiker & etc. belong to Koyasu Takehito & Co. Please don't sue, and if you're kind enough to rate, please be kind enough to be honest; harsh comments are badly needed. Pertenum is posted in fictionpress.com, in case you'd like to read the backstory of this fic.  
  
Warning/s: language, occasional first person perspective  
  
Notes: /text/ = thoughts  
  
Crossing Lines: O-kay... Who are you? Part One  
  
[12:04 PM, Koneko flower shop, 3rd floor]  
  
Ken was late. He was so late Aya would probably go all "SHI-NE!!!" on him and cut his head off with his katana. That or he'll be spending the rest of the day doing everything else like sweeping the floor, throwing out the trash and putting up with the squealing fangirls till the gods know when.  
  
/Why didn't the alarm clock work?!?/  
  
Ken ran some more across the hall, down the stairs, - turn to the left- down the stairs again and –  
  
BLAG!  
  
"Eh, what?"  
  
Omi looked down to see Ken unconscious on the floor.  
  
"Eep..."  
  
[12:04, Koneko flower shop, 1st floor]  
  
Yohji sat in silence in the kitchen. Aya sat across him, eating the Chinese take-out they ordered for lunch. /Really, we can afford for something else.../ Yohji facefaulted.  
  
"Yo, Aya..."  
  
Amethyst eyes looked up at Yohji, slightly narrowing, before looking back at its owner's lunch. "Nani?"  
  
"Well, Omi... He's... Well, I don't know, he's been... Different. Since, you know, that incident with Shcwartz. I was... I'm worried."  
  
Aya sighed and put down his chopsticks. "That's not our problem. He's old enough to work his issues out."  
  
Yohji snorted. "That's just like you, isn't it?"  
  
He looked to his left and sighed. /Dammit, where's Ken??/ Yohji pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.  
  
"You're not smoking in here."  
  
Yohji looked up and cocked an eyebrow. "You... that's Omi's line, Aya." Yohji lit his cigarette.  
  
Aya was in the process of standing up and pulling Yohji's cigarette from his fingers when something went BLAG from upstairs. Both of them looked up.  
  
"Ken's awake then."  
  
[12:30 PM, Tokyo, and some random street]  
  
Okay, I'm hungry.  
  
I've been walking in circles already, and I'm pretty tired. Not to mention I skipped breakfast when someone crashed through my window and tried to stab me, which turns out to be my little sister. And I thought I only get attacked at clubs.  
  
"...I know that I'm carryin' on, never mind if I'm showin' off, I was just frontin'..."  
  
Well, at least my I-pod wasn't wrecked last night; I just uploaded a lot of songs last night.  
  
Okay, this says... wait a minute... which side of this map is up? Is this kanji or... what is this?  
  
[12:45, Koneko flower shop, shop proper]  
  
Ken's head throbbed with pain. He tried to open his eyes a bit, but his head really spun this way and that so much he could barely know whether he was upright or upside down.  
  
"Whu-"  
  
A high-pitched voice hit Ken's ears.  
  
"Ken-kun!! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I really –sniff- didn' mean tha'..."  
  
"Omi, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking!!!"  
  
Ken sat up, or tried to, at least. He managed a somewhat upright position and put his hands on his forehead. "What hit me?"  
  
At this Yohji chuckled a bit from the side. "Haha... From what Omi said, he opened his door just when you turned and ran off the second floor landing." Yohji pointed to his forehead. "You hit the door headlong." Yohji proceeded to laugh out loud.  
  
Ken just facefaulted, then turned his attention to Omi.  
  
"Omittchi, you're supposed to be in bed. What are you doing here? You have a fever, dint'choo?"  
  
Omi's face fell a bit, but he smiled nonetheless. "My head was beginning to get stuffy from lying in bed for almost a week, so I decided to get up and get some air."  
  
Ken stared blankly. "The only air you get here comes from Yohji's ashtray."  
  
Yohji put on a face, trying to look hurt. "Hey, if I didn't smoke that much, where'd we get the carbon dioxide for the plants? B'sides, the fangirls take up all the oxygen there is in the shop and suffocates us all. Geez, I'm only helping!"  
  
Omi suppressed a laugh while Ken chortled. "Yeah? Well, I was just worrying about our lungs here. I wouldn't want to die of a heart attack in the middle of a mission, would I?"  
  
At this Omi burst out laughing, Ken was biting down on his knuckles and Yohji had this stupid grin on his face.  
  
Meanwhile, across the room, Aya folded his arms, shook his head and wondered what was so funny and went "Hn" before flipping the 'Closed for lunch' sign to 'Open'.  
  
[02:00 PM, Tokyo]  
  
"... my loneliness is killing me... AND I!!! I must confess, I still believe (STILL BELIEVE!!!)... if I'm not with you, I lose my mind, GIVE ME A SIIIIGN!!! HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!!!"  
  
That was NOT Britney's version, thank you...  
  
Where the FUCK am I, anyway?  
  
Oh, wow, I can't remember the way to the hotel, and I have to meet that Kritiker agent at 5 PM this afternoon.  
  
Please don't rain. [02:00 PM, somewhere else in Tokyo]  
  
"So who is it again?" Manx asked Birman from across the table. The two Kritiker agents were given a coffee break, and so they were at a cafeteria from across their office.  
  
Birman sipped her black coffee and pursed her lips. "It's a girl that goes by the name Kessy Abrera. While this is probably her alias, that's the name we were advised to use to address her." Birman put her cup down.  
  
"We're picking her up today?" Manx inquired.  
  
"This afternoon at 5, actually." Birman looked at her watch. "Coffee break's almost over."  
  
"Well then..." Manx left some change on the table and stood, following Birman out of the cafeteria. /Birman's quite distracted./  
  
Well, Birman was more than distracted. By the time she finally reached her desk, she was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the girl tapping on her table.  
  
"Birman? Hello?"  
  
Birman snapped into attention. "Hm? Oh, Kyrie. You..."  
  
Kyrie Homura was one of Kritiker's new information gatherers. Not exactly an informant, but rather she collects the information and files it accordingly. /Early delivery./  
  
"Some paperwork, ma'am. It's... Baby Red's profile." Birman looked into the younger woman's eyes, as if questioning her. Kyrie fidgeted.  
  
"It was handed to me by some of my superiors... they said I should give it to you immediately..." Kyrie looked away; she was still new to Birman's calculating stare. "It was sent upon request by our contacts from SS." Her voice was barely audible, but Birman had heard enough.  
  
"Birman took the files from Kyrie's hands and shuffled them. "You can go now, then."  
  
Kyrie let out her breathe. "T-thank you, ma'am."  
  
Birman stopped and looked up. "K, don't call me ma'am." Kyrie just looked back. "Uhm... I..."  
  
"You make me sound old, you know."  
  
Both females smiled at each other. "I'll leave then, Miss Birman."  
  
As soon as the door closed, Birman pulled out the files from its envelope and momentarily scanned the first few pages. What she read piqued her interest more than a little.  
  
/This... is.../  
  
Birman raised the cluster of pages to her eye level.  
  
The first page stated basic information, but aside from age, legal name, height and weight, everything else was left blank or was marked 'unknown'. The next few pages stated her background; both parents murdered, has 6 siblings, 4 are males, 3 of them dead, 2 sisters whose status are unknown and...  
  
/A... a miscarriage?/  
  
Birman put the files down and raised a hand, the ends of her fingers barely touching her forehead. /That can't be right.../ Though why she thought s, Birman couldn't say. She continued to read the pages, reading every line and backtracking occasionally, until-  
  
...started working in the Society at the age of 6, during which she went from a novice to a high-ranking assassin within the span of 8 months. One of her most impressive works include the massacre of many yakuza families at the age of 9.All subordinates and their families were also killed. Entire job was accomplished in 2 months, an impressive...  
  
Birman dropped the files. She removed the pages about the operative's work history and placed it inside a separate folder. /The boys need to read this if they're supposed to get through.../ Birman went through the medical files and frowned. Most were blank.  
  
"No records on hospitalizations, surgery, therapies, not even a little paragraph about a flu..."  
  
Birman leaned against her chair, heaved a sigh, shook her head and pushed the files away. "Why send it if there's nothing in it?" she thought aloud.  
  
/Then again, it's not too useless... I'll just assume this girl's a cold- hearted bitch./  
  
Her tabletop clock blinked 2:25.  
  
She turned to her computer and typed down a message.

TBC

Hehehe... Pls review!!


	4. Okay, who are you? Part Two

Author's notes: This is my first fanfic, and it's a Weiß/Pertenum crossover. Pertenum is mine, Weiss, Kritiker & etc. belong to Koyasu Takehito & Co. Please don't sue, and if you're kind enough to rate, please be kind enough to be honest; harsh comments are badly needed. Pertenum is posted in fictionpress.com, in case you'd like to read the backstory of this fic.  
  
Warning/s: language, violence, hints of rape and suicide, occasional first person perspective  
  
Note: /text/ = thoughts or flashbacks  
  
Crossing Lines: O-kay... Who are you? Part Two  
  
[04:00 PM, Tokyo]  
  
...I'm sorry that I hurt you... ...It's something I must live with everyday...  
  
/The sound of a gun blasting through the midnight air, the smell of its smoke filling my lungs... Blood spattering across my face, faces falling into shock as Adriel stands frozen, the pain in his chest resulting to a gaping hole... The soundless cry that runs out of my throat as his face contorts to an expression of pain... A final look at me, disbelieving, as he slumps forward and I drop the gun... people clapping, some crying, some cursing.../  
  
...And all the pain I put you through... ...I wish that I could take it all away...  
  
/...A girl running across the room, diving towards me just as the wall and glass windows get blown up from my side... shrapnel hitting my face and side... shards and splinters cover the place... then the warm dripping sound and crimson liquid drop onto the carpeted floor...my best friend, the only one that ever existed, a bloody and stumped area where her left ear was supposed to be... the rest of her body is mangled, I can't recognize her... my screams sound foreign to me as it pierces the air.../  
  
...And be that one who catches all your tears... ...That's why I need you to hear...  
  
/...Shock running through me, all kinds of reflexes go down... I'm left vulnerable... my clothes are torn, seam to stitch, my hands tied and my eyes covered... one familiar voice, one I almost trusted... leering... humiliation dawns on me, painful and heady, like a drug... My head spins... Denial turns into horrid realization rapidly... rape... I was being raped, after so many years of believing it wouldn't happen again... but this was reality hitting me violently... this was surreal, but it's still happening.../  
  
...I've found a reason for me...  
  
...To change who I used to be...  
  
/Insanity. I'm sitting in a fucking asylum, rocking myself back and forth, cowering like a fucking baby, crying like I've been scared out of my head, and everyone whom I ever saw drops down dead. Killing spree sounds nice, doesn't it? Sounds fucking crazy, doesn't it? Shit, you locked me up here telling everyone I'm aphasiac and crazy, and to hell, yeah, I'll cut your throat if I ever get to you.../  
  
...A reason to start over new...  
  
...and the reason is you...  
  
DITDIT, DITDIT, DITDIT...  
  
/Snap into focus. Damn./  
  
Cielo sat up lazily. /I fell asleep, didn't I?/ She shifted on the bed; by the time she made her way back to the hotel, she was ready to faint in the lobby. She sighed.  
  
/So somehow, I managed to make it to the bed, huh?/  
  
/Why do I have to dream about every fucking misfortune that happens to me when I need rest the most?/ She grunted. /Fucking luck, now I'll be mope and go angsty for the rest of the day.../  
  
Something stirred near the window. Cielo smiled a bit, noticing the glass was back. Then she noticed a tabby cat with one green eye and one blue eye staring at her. Cielo frowned; the ledge of the window was hardly one foot in width, and her room was on one of the top floors of the hotel. The nearest roof was at least ten meters below her window. Hard for a cat to reach, unless...  
  
/The fuck... Carol?/  
  
Cielo stood up and ran to the window, whipping it open before she was even close enough for balance. She swayed a bit from the momentum while the tabby slinked into the room.  
  
/Nice place.../ A voice purred in her head. Cielo slammed the window shut.  
  
/What are you doing here?/ Cielo shot back. It wasn't like Carol to visit, in the middle of "work" no less.  
  
/Now now, Sis... You should be happy.../ The cat swished its tail, sweeping the carpet a moment before the feline morphed, slowly, into a tall, blonde lady.  
  
"Now that, I am happy about." Cielo smirked; it had been a long time since she last saw her older sister. "Many things have changed, Kiya..."  
  
"Shut up, Kessy, and don't brag."  
  
Carol Zarela, Keeshia Stanford, Kiya, whatever you call her, to everyone in SS she was Cristi Anne. She was tall, like everyone in their former family – well, whatever was left of them. Her wavy hair was many shades of yellow, reaching up to her ankles in length. Her eyes were silver-blue with deep blue vertical slits across the pupils. She had fair skin, bordering on pale, and was mottled near her hands and feet. If anything, she looked more like a model than an assassin, as she and her sisters were. Especially with skintight leather suit she was wearing, she definitely painted a different picture than what she really was.  
  
Cielo coughed and smirked. "What brings you here?"  
  
Carol turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "You mean you thought I wouldn't know?"  
  
/Figures./ Cielo thought. "Don't hope for a family reunion."  
  
Carol looked down, then looked up and smiled. "Can't help it."  
  
Carol proceeded to stretch languidly, much like a cat. She basked in the sunshine rays filtering through the glass of the window. Then she sighed.  
  
"What happened, Kessy?"  
  
More than anything, Cielo did not want to talk about what had happened. The incident in question? Cielo sighed.  
  
"I tried to kill Cecil. Of course, it got me in trouble with the big guys, and Cecil's crazy enough, she wants revenge."  
  
The older woman nodded. "Evaluation?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Well then," Carol said, taking a happier tone, "Best be off!!! You have a job, I have a date, and I just felt you out so I dropped by."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
Carol winked, walked over to the window and opened it. She smiled one last time at her sister's direction before jumping straight out the window in her cat form.  
  
Cielo sighed, while two somethings beeped.  
  
One was her I-pod; she uploaded an alarm that sounded off when the battery is almost out. The other beeping thing was her cellphone. She picked it up.  
  
["You've got mail! You've mail!"]  
  
[I'm bringing Weiss. –Birman]  
  
TBC 


End file.
